The X Files: Uncovered
by xfirefly9x
Summary: A collection of ficlets based on the characters of The X Files. Various characters and pairings.
1. Under The Radar

**Under the Radar**

Prompt: #01 Under the Radar  
Word Count: 161  
Notes: Written for FictionNET

Scully entered the office she shared with Mulder, placing her suitcase on her desk and then moving back towards the door to hang up her coat. Just as she had positioned it neatly on the hook, Mulder came up behind her.

"Mulder!" she exclaimed. "You startled me!" She smiled at him, slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry," he muttered blankly, reaching past her and retrieving her coat from its hook. Scully eyed him sceptically as he handed it to her and helped her put it back on.

"Are we going someplace?" she asked him, curiously, readjusting the neck of the coat.

Mulder nodded and gave Scully a reassuring smile. "Yes. We've been given the day off," he explained.

"We've been given the day off? But it's –"

"I know." Mulder placed a hand on her shoulder and led her back outside, pausing only to lock the office door behind them. "There's some new agents in town. Skinner wants us to stay under the radar."


	2. Agape

**Agape**

Prompt: #02 Agape  
Word Count: 161  
Notes: Written for FictionNET

"Scully! Come look at this!" Mulder called out to his partner, excitedly. He was kneeling on the ground less than a metre away from one of the most fascinating discoveries he had ever made.

"What is it, Mulder?" Scully called back, glancing over her shoulder at him. She pocketed her pen and slipping her notes under her arm, ventured over to join him on the roadside. She crouched down next to him and followed the line of his finger with her eyes.

"I don't see it."

"Right there," Mulder instructed as Scully moved closer to get a better view.

"Where?"

Mulder placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her towards him. He pointed again at the specimen he had discovered. "Do you see it now?" he asked Scully, letting his gaze focus on the curious redhead. He smiled when he saw the expression on her face. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were wide in astonishment.

"I see it."


	3. Intoxicated

**Intoxicated**

Prompt: #059 Intoxicated

Notes: Written for ficlets100.

"Hey! Sc..Scully!" Mulder called out to his partner. She glanced up at him surprised to see him, before double taking at his stumble over her name.

"Mulder? Just how intoxicated are you?" she questioned, sceptically.

"'m not drunk!" he slurred back, staggering over to greet her. He paused in front of her and swayed lightly on the spot.

"Why is it that you stumbled over my name, then? And you're tripping over your own feet!" Scully pointed out, grabbing his arm as he almost fell over.

"I…I'm not!" he argued weakly.

Scully rolled her eyes. "Sure Mulder. Whatever you say."


	4. Remains

**Remains**

Prompt: #002 Velvet

Notes: Written for FictionNET

Scully absentmindedly fingered a purple square of velvet, as she and Mulder drove towards the office. Their last case hadn't gone particularly well and much to Scully's horror, had ended with the death of a magician named Pedro McBlanc.

The purple velvet was all that remained of him now. Everything else had been burned in a fire at his apartment, earlier that morning. With no evidence left behind, they had been forced to close the case.

As they rounded the next corner and entered the highway, Scully sighed and let the material fall to her lap. She couldn't help but feel responsible, at least a little bit, for the magicians' death. She had, after all, been with him when it had happened.

Mulder glanced over at her apprehensively and turned down the radio. "Hey, Scully. Are you all right?" he asked.

Scully nodded slowly. "I think so. It's just…this is all that remains of McBlanc. It's a piece of velvet!" she explained scornfully. "It doesn't feel right."

"You think we missed something?" Mulder slowed down as the traffic ahead became thicker. Pulling to a stop, he gazed frustrated out the front window, before turning his attention back to his partner.

"No," Scully sighed resignedly. "He was just taken before his time."

Mulder nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean."


	5. UFO Sightings

**UFO Sightings**

Prompt: #003 Gorge

Notes: Written for FictionNET

Mulder led Scully down the steep, rocky mountainside towards the thin, almost inexistent stream that snaked its way through the gorge. There had been several UFO sightings reported to be in the area and being unusual for so many similar cases to be seen in such a location, they had decided to check it out.

Or rather, Mulder had decided that they'd check it out.

He'd managed to convince Scully to give up her weekend and come along. She had quite reluctantly agreed after hours of pleading.

"This is it," Mulder told her as they arrived at the stream.

Scully glanced around, taking in their surroundings and took a swig of water from the bottle Mulder offered. "Thanks," she murmured, handing it back. Squinting into the sunlight, she focused again on the gorge.

"This had better be it! I really don't want to find out we're in the wrong place after that walk!" She leaned down to massage her right leg. "I don't think I've ever been in this much pain!"

Mulder grinned, amused. "Don't worry. The walk wasn't for nothing." He pointed towards an outcrop of rocks nearby. A stiff, decaying hand was caught under the rubble.


	6. Hopelessness

**Hopelessness**

Prompt: #005 Tearstained

Notes: Written for FictionNET

Scully wandered through Mulder's apartment, studying her surroundings carefully. She paid lots of attention to the little things – she couldn't let herself miss anything, because that would lessen her chances of finding her partner.

It felt like ages since he'd disappeared, but really, it had only been 3 days.

His whereabouts were unknown to everyone at this point. Skinner didn't know where he was and as far as she knew, not even the Lone Gunmen in their paranoid ways knew of her partners' location.

It was looking very hopeless.

Kneeling on the floor in the middle of Mulder's kitchen, Scully allowed herself a moment to let the truth to sink in. The realisation hit her that she may never see her partner again; that Mulder may never return. That was, assuming he was still alive.

A single tear fell down Scully's cheek as her last traces of hope ebbed away.


	7. A Little Faith

**A Little Faith**

Prompt: #004 Cookies

Notes: Written for FictionNET

Scully eyed Mulder sceptically as he handed her a cookie wrapped in a tissue. His theories were far from normal on the best of occasions and she had come to accept that, but this time he was going too far. Way too far.

"Mulder! You're not serious, are you?" she retorted. "I mean…that's just impossible!"

Mulder grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Yes, I'm completely series," he affirmed. "And it's not impossible. Have a little faith!"

"We'll need a lot more than a little faith for this!" Scully exclaimed, raising the cookie in the air, just in front of Mulder's nose.

"Aw, Scully! C'mon!"

"No!" Scully stared defiantly at the ground for a moment, hoping that Mulder would take the hint and move on. However, she made the mistake of looking up and found herself trapped in his puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," she relented, a small smile creeping onto her face.

Mulder grinned widely and patted her gratefully on the shoulder. "I knew you'd come through!"

Scully rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Sure, Mulder," she replied sarcastically. She pushed a strand of red hair back out of her face and straightened her blouse. "So let me get this straight. We have to bake two hundred cookies for some fundraiser that just happens to be tomorrow?"

"Yup!" Mulder confirmed brightly. "We'd better get started!"


	8. Lost Your Marbles

**Lost Your Marbles**

Prompt: #004 Lost  
Notes: Written for ficlets100

"Mulder! Have you lost your marbles?" Scully retorted, eying her partner sceptically.

He grinned back and shook his head, reaching into his pocket as if checking for something. "Nope, they're all here," he replied teasingly. "Lucky, huh? We'd have had to go back to the mountains if they'd gone missing!"

His eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle and he moved closer to Scully as she attempted and failed miserably to hide a smile.

"Yes, Mulder," Scully replied, sarcastically. "It's _very_ lucky."

"It certainly is, Scully!" Mulder quipped lightly, brushing his hand against hers.

Scully smiled resignedly. "Sure. Fine. Whatever."


	9. Escaped

**Escaped**

Prompt: #020 Elephant

Word Count: 427

"What the hell is going on, Mulder?" Scully demanded. Her hands on her hips, she stared at him, obviously not enjoying the moment as Mulder had hoped.

"Well, Scully," he started in explanation. "It seems that we've gotten ourselves into a rather sticky situation."

"I see that, Mulder," came the annoyed reply. "I'm just not seeing the why. Care to enlighten me?"

Mulder nodded at his partner. "Sure," he said. He continued on staring at her, not bothered with giving her any justification of his actions and their current predicament.

"Well?" Scully prompted after a long silence.

"What?"

Scully raised an eyebrow and shot Mulder an irritated look.

"Oh right, you wanted an explanation," he finally clued in. "Sorry."

"So? What's going on, Mulder?"

"Well, the elephant. It was supposed to be here," he explained. "It got lost on the way though, so it isn't here," he finished with a boyish smirk. He was rewarded with a calculated stare and then a more worried one, as Scully reached out a hand to feel his forehead.

"Mulder, are you okay? You're not drunk, are you?" Scully asked, the doctor side of her taking control. "Did you hit your head?" She let her fingers roam through his hair, searching for injuries then shifted her hand to cup the side of his face momentarily before taking it away and continuing to stare at him.

"I'm fine, Scully. Really."

"Then tell me what's going on," Scully prompted him.

Mulder smiled. "I just wanted us to do something fun for once. Something not work related. I guess it didn't work out," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you have nothing to be sorry about," Scully told him. "If that's what you were going for, you've definitely achieved it. Taking me to see an elephant that turns out to have gotten lost is without doubt one of the things that I'll never forget."

"Thank you, Scully. But you don't have to lie to make me feel good."

Scully rolled her eyes. "I'm not lying for your sake, Mulder. I happened to have fun today, elephant or not."

"Really?" Mulder let a smile take over his features.

"Yes, really. I'd much rather spend time with you than see an elephant any day."

Mulder grinned widely at her comment. "And you're not in the least bit wondering why I was going to take you to see the elephant?"

Scully groaned and before he could jump into one of his wild theories, this one no doubt regarding aliens experimenting on elephants, she told him, "shut up, Mulder!"


	10. Balloons

**Balloons**

Prompt: #009 Balloon

A brilliant ball of red floated up to the ceiling, joining several others and bouncing lightly off as they collided. A few minutes later, a green one had also found its way to the roof, the strings of orange ribbon that tied it dangling carelessly below.

The ceiling was alight with colour and finally happy with the display, Mulder set the equipment he'd been using to fill the balloons aside and lay back on the floor.

The door swung open seconds later, revealing Scully. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, confused.

Mulder grinned, gesturing upwards. "Happy Birthday, Scully!"


	11. Hand Squeeze

**Hand Squeeze**

Prompt: #001 Hand

Mulder clutched Scully's hand, as she lay unconscious on the hospital bed beside him. A stray bullet had hit her when they had been out on a stakeout that had gotten way out of control.

Presumable, Skinner had sent back up, but they hadn't shown up until it was too late. A group of five terrorists had gotten away, leaving Scully with a bullet to the chest in their frenzied escape.

Now, the agents were at the hospital and according to the doctors, Scully might never wake up. As Mulder digesting this information, he squeezed his partners' hand, silently crying.


	12. Apology

**Apology**

Prompt: #007 Sorrow

Notes: Written for FictionNET

"Scully! I'm so sorry!" Mulder whispered, dropping his head in shame. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. Not after what he had just done.

"I don't know if I can accept that," came the icy reply. Scully had put her computer trust in Mulder and he had betrayed that. Why should she forgive him after that? It didn't feel right.

Neither did the lump of guilt that had stuck in Scully's throat. She knew that she wasn't to blame – that it was all Mulder's fault – but still, she couldn't make the feeling go away. It wouldn't budge.

Mulder finally found the courage to look up at his partner. For a moment, there was an awkward silence as they stared at each other; Scully's intense blue eyes piercing Mulder's brown ones.

"I really am sorry, Scully," Mulder finally said, apologetically. "I don't know what came over me."

Scully nodded, feeling some of the anger drain away. "Okay, then I forgive you," she said quietly. "On one condition."

"Yes?" Mulder raised an eyebrow, hopefully.

"Next time you decide to come over unannounced while I'm in the shower, have the decency to knock before you come in."


	13. Believe

**Believe**

Prompt: #006 Crucify

Notes: Written for philosophy20.

Crucify: _To put to death by nailing or binding the body to a cross._

Scully stared up at the limp, lifeless form of a man who had, it seemed, been crucified. His various limbs were nailed to the poles of a thick, religious-like cross. It was a crucifix if Scully were correct.

Blood ran down the man's body, covering him almost completely. It was by far one of the most grotesque and inhumane things that she had ever seen.

"How long until he can be taken down?" Scully asked on of the officers on the scene. She waited expectantly.

"Sorry, miss," came the gruff reply. "FBI's got no place in this. The case is with the state police." Without a second glance, he moved off and joined another man who was presumably his partner.

Scully stared after him and was about to go and give him a piece of her mind dwhen a gently hand caught her shoulder. She reflexively turned around and came face to face with…Mulder.

"So?" she asked him. "Is this another X File?"

Mulder shrugged. "No, I don't think so." He glanced around them to check that they were out of earshot of the others. "I managed to get hold of the officer in charge and he's already got a suspect lined up to be prosecuted. We're done here."

Scully let her gaze linger for a moment back on the crucified corpse. "Why is it that religion is based primary on belief and faith in good, yet violence is always just around the corner? Most wars are the result of religious arguments, are they not?"

Mulder sighed and gave his partner a half-hug. "I don't know, Scully. Some people just need to believe, I guess."


	14. Birth

**Birth**

Prompt: #001 Birth

Notes: Written for philosophy20. Set sometime before "Emily" (Season 5).

The birth of a child was a joyous thing. It signified the beginning of a new life and the fresh innocence that came along with it. It was something that Scully wanted to have very much, but she knew now that she would never be able to have it.

Since she had learned this, she had looked at things differently. She had witnessed mothers in the park tending to their children. She'd seen families spending time together, happy just to be in each other's company. And she had cried.

She had cried for all the missed time that she could have been enjoying with a child of her own. She cried for the holidays that would never be shared with a family. She cried for all the things that would never be.

At these moments of vulnerability, Mulder had been there to catch her when she fell, not that she advertised her pain to him or anyone else for that matter. He just knew. He was her rock, anchoring her to the blinding reality of truth no matter how bad it stung. If it weren't for him…she might not have made it as far as she had.

The truth was all she had to hold onto now. There was no use hoping for something that would never be.


	15. Life Support

**Life Support**

Prompt: #084 Blood

Notes: Written for 100situations

The first thing that she noticed was the blood. It ran down the side of her partners' face, pooling on the cold hard cement beneath him and mingling with the dust. It was impossible to tell if he was still alive…and if he was, the chances that he'd survive appeared to be slim to none.

The blood loss was phenomenal and there was a good chance that he'd gone into anaphylactic shock before they were able to stop the bleeding. His eyelids kept fluttering open and closed, which didn't make things any better either.

She only hoped that they'd gotten there in time.

A few EMTs bustled past and began working on his limp body. They checked his pulse and almost immediately began CPR. All she could do was watch and cry silently as his life slowly ebbed away.

Then she remembered. He had put his faith in her when she'd been in hospital after his disappearance. He had trusted her to pull through and fight away the darkness. And she had come out on top. Now, there positions were reversed. It was her turn to put her faith in him. His life may depend on it.

Brushing away her tears, she moved forwards and knelt by his side. She reached for his unmoving hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. A renewed spark of hope snagged her heart as he squeezed back, moments later.

His eyes flickered open and caught hers as he was moved onto a stretcher by the EMTs. Their fingers still entwined, they moved into the back of the ambulance. When he smiled up at her from the stretcher, she knew that everything would be all right.

**A/N:** I got a bit confused with the EMTs thing...so if that's not what they're called, sorry!


	16. Stranded

**Stranded**

Prompt: #006 Desert

Notes: Written for baf100

It was in the desert that they first saw it. It had been creeping along an outcrop of rocks when they had rounded the corner just to the right of it. At the sight of them it had sped out of sight, leaving nothing behind it but a trail of fading footprints.

They saw it next near the mountains. They assumed it had followed them, perhaps hoping for some food scraps. It wasn't until nightfall that Mulder was able to capture it. Carrying it carefully against his chest, he presented it to his partner, grinning animatedly.

"Want a dog, Scully?"


	17. Indecision

**Indecision**

Prompt: #096 Writer's Choice: Indecision

Notes: Written for 100situations

Why is it that when it comes to the life-changing decisions, I can't make up my mind? Like this, for example. I have feelings for Scully and I want to tell her but at the same time I don't want her to ever know.

I want her to know so I can relieve myself of this secret and not have to keep anything from her, but if I tell her, I'll probably scare her away and I just couldn't live with that. I need her in my life and if she left because of something I said, I'd be devastated.

Also, our friendship would never be the same if I told her. If she'd ever talk to me again, that is. I just don't know what to do. The indecision is clogging up my vision, hanging thick in the air like the plague, maybe even thicker than that.

It's ironic that I, Fox Mulder, whom has dedicated his entire life to finding out the truth, can't even tell a girl how I truly feel. You would think that with a mission such as my own, I'd be able to confess easily. Or at least be less nervous than I'm feeling right now.

But I'm not. It's not easy. In actual fact, it's the hardest and most nerve-wracking experience of my many years.

I've considered letting it go and moving on with life as it is, but I need to know what she feels about me. If she feels the same way about me as I do her. And the only way to find out that is to tell her the truth about how I feel.

But is she ready to hear it? Am I ready?


	18. Mourning

**Mourning**

Prompt: #005 Lament

Notes: Written for 100situations

Dripping down her throat in thick streams, her blood shone a brilliant red under the white, fluorescent light. A wide gaping wound slashed her neck, cutting through the artery and veins and revealing the bared, bloody flesh beneath.

Her ice blue eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, empty with milky white residue blurring their focus. Her skin was ghostly pale – so much so that it was almost translucent. Her hair, once vibrant orange, was washed out and grungy-looking.

"Sir?" the young morgue attendant prompted Mulder out of his reverie. "Is it her?"

Mulder felt the bile rise in his throat and he swallowed a few times before he was able to speak. He was only just able to keep in the tears that were desperate to fall. "It…it isn't her," he slowly choked out. "It's not Scully."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Mulder confirmed. He walked dazedly toward the cold metal door, wishing now more than ever that he'd been able to do something – anything at all – to have saved his partner from whoever or whatever being had abducted her.

As he gave the uncovered body on the morgue table one last lingering glance, he wished it had been him instead.


	19. Not What It Seems

**Not What It Seems**

Prompt: #000 Shape

Notes: Written for the 2006 QCS test

"Shape-shifting isn't real, Mulder!" Agent Dana Scully exclaimed. She eyed her work partner critically and waited for the inevitable theory that was sure to come. Scully had been paired up with Agent Fox Mulder to discredit all of his wild ideas regarding the supernatural in the unsolved FBI cases they were assigned to and so far, her knowledge and belief in science had pulled through every time.

"Sure it is, Scully," came the reply. "There's evidence tracing back to a king in 600BC. King Nebuchadnezzar, I think his name is. Reportedly, he had a 'condition' that involved him growing out his hair and running around as a wild beast. And he had the ability to change shape!"

Mulder walked over to Scully's side and handed her a manila folder containing several documents on the subject. "Take a look," he instructed. "It's all there."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Scully rolled her eyes resignedly and tucking a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear, flipped the folder open. She shuffled through the files before finding a particularly useful one on the king that Mulder had mentioned. Scanning it quickly, she looked back up at Mulder.

"It says here that King Nebuchadnezzar was able to physically change shape. How is that remotely possible?" she asked him, sceptically. "There's no scientific evidence that supports it!"

Mulder grinned, having expected her question. He paced the room between their cluttered desks for a moment, until Scully shot him a dirty look that clearly said to 'get on with it'.

"Shape-shifters are like water," he started cryptically. "The density of the cells are in such a way that there's no definite shape. They're nebulous, I guess you could say." He paused for effect and glanced over at his partner.

"And?" she prompted blankly.

"The density of the cells allows the organism to change its molecular structure. I imagine that the being in our latest case is able to change its physical appearance so that it looks like anyone or anything it wants."

"Mulder!" Scully sighed wearily. "It still doesn't make sense. How can this 'being' change shape? You're not suggesting that he can do it by will, are you? It's far more likely that he and King Nebuchadnezzar were subject to a genetic mutation of some kind that increased the rate of evolution, perhaps caused by radiation exposure or a chemical imbalance."

"Maybe, but it doesn't seem likely though, does it?" Mulder replied. "For a being to evolve in such a way that it can change shape would take millions of years! And that gives the impression that this 'being' is ancient."

"Okay," Scully began slowly. "Say I believe you – that shape-shifting is real. How would one know who or what the 'being' is? If it can take any form, it could be anything, as you pointed out before. It could be you!"

Mulder grinned again. "It's not me," he stated. "But I'm beginning to think it might be you! You're taking the shape-shifting idea a little too well if you ask me!"

An exasperated expression crossed Scully's face as if she was about to say something. Mulder ignored it and went on. "There's no way to detect who or what form this being is in. It can take any shape it chooses, no matter how big or small."

He studied Scully carefully for a moment, catching her eye. "That's why it's important that we trust no one. Not everything is what it seems."


	20. The Taking Of A Life

**_The Taking Of A Life_**

**_Notes:_**_ Tag to "This Is Not Happening" (season 8)._

So much in this life is unfair. A child left out of a game, forced to sit alone on the sidelines. Getting to the bakery only to find that the last loaf of bread has been sold to the customer before you. Finding out that you failed an exam by one mark.

As I stand here, I think of all those things and more. All around me, people are facing unrighteous events, things that should not happen, and all around me, they go on.

Correction.

Most of them go on.

A select few are not so lucky.

While on a daily basis, people face unfair situations their grief is nothing compared to mine. Not today. The injustice of what has happened…it outweighs the little things they go through, because they at least will have another day to look forward to; they will have another chance to _live_.

Mulder won't.

It breaks my heart to even let this thought pass my mind, but I won't either. My chances have died along with Mulder, my heart a smouldering lump of ash in my chest. Everything I have desired for so long has crumbled down around me. It won't ever come true.

I let my attention go back to the present and sweep my gaze over his coffin once more. Fox William Mulder. His name engraved in stone. Cold. Hard. Final.

Never again will the inconveniences I face annoy me so, for I now know that nothing is as unfair as the taking of a life before its time.

_fin._


	21. Scope Him Out

**_Scope Him Out_**

"You don't have to do this alone," she tells him, reaching out for his hand. She captures it in hers but he gently pries it free and takes a step back from her.

"No, Scully," he says. "I do. I do have to do this alone. Nothing you can say will change my mind." His eyes are bubbling larva, intense, hot and certain.

He really wants to do this alone.

He doesn't want her around to get in the way.

"Mulder."

"No. Don't argue with me. Please, Scully." He purses his lips, stares at her.

She stares back intently at his shoulder. She can't look into his eyes when he's like this. She doesn't want to risk it – she's scared that when he looks, he'll be someone else.

"Look. If I was certain you'd be safe coming with me, I'd be fine with it. I just… It's too unpredictable. I haven't met this guy before and – "

"You want to scope him out before I meet him," she finishes. "Of course."

"I just want to protect you."

She brings herself to meet his eyes despite the urgent desire in her to turn away. "If something happened to you, Mulder, it wouldn't matter."

He clenches his jaw, hangs his head. "I'm going alone," he says quietly.

She sighs but doesn't argue any further.

There's no point.

He's made up his mind.

He's going alone.

_fin._


	22. Child

**_Child_**

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a child?"

"Yes they have. Many times."

"Has it ever occurred to you why that might be?"

Mulder continues to play on the Nintendo he'd discovered at a yard sale the day before and not taking his eyes from the screen offered a careless grunt.

"Mulder! We're supposed to be working." She flips open a file and holding it in the air tells him the basics. "Young girl. Missing. No signs of forced entry into the house. A yet to be identified substance, pale yellow in colour, was found at the scene."

"It was the parents," he fills her in immediately. "Or one of them anyway. The dad, I'm guessing, faked the kidnap because their marriage is on the rocks; he wants out and doesn't want to go through a messy lawsuit to get custody. Losing a kid breaks families apart. He could leave with the kid and his wife would be none the wiser."

"The yellow substance?"

"Mucus or pus or maybe custard. That's my guess. It's probably nothing."

Scully frowns at him and runs her tongue over her lips. She closes the file. "Maybe you're right but we still have to investigate it, Mulder. Let's go." She puts the file on her desk while she pulls on her coat.

Mulder flicks his eyes up from his game for a split second and then returns his attention back to it. "Just a minute," he says. "I'm almost finished this level."

She slaps a hand to her face and sighs. "Child."

_fin._


	23. Sensory Overload

**_Sensory Overload_**

Her eyes burned, yet she wouldn't let herself fall asleep. The pain, while intense, was not altogether unbearable and she had made a promise to herself and more importantly, to Mulder.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

Blinking furiously, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. A little pressure was relieved. She settled her gaze back on the blaring television set.

The lines blurred into each other immediately and even after forcing her mind to interpret more clearly the scene playing out in front of her, she found that she couldn't grasp the whole concept.

The pictures while helpful were quite difficult to comprehend without the words being properly digested. She was on a sensory overload.

Giving up on the TV, she turned wearily to Mulder.

"Hey, are you still up?" she whispered, reaching over to run a hand through his mussed up hair.

No answer.

"Mulder?"

Nothing.

She could barely make out the top of his head from the pillows he'd piled around himself and so gently removed one, two, three of them.

"I guess you've fallen asleep," she sighed. "Typical."

She muted the TV and shifted into a more comfortable position, careful not to disturb him. "Goodnight, Mulder."

_fin._


	24. Finding Luke

**_Finding Luke_**

Luke.

Finding Luke.

Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else was important enough to him to even consider for a passing moment.

Eating. Sleeping. Who needed it?

All he needed was his son.

Luke.

What had become of him?

How long would it be until they found him?

He knew none of the answers but he was determined that he would find out.

Luke.

He wouldn't stop until he found out.

He wouldn't give up hope.

He wouldn't stop searching.

Luke.

He wouldn't give up on him.

Not ever.

He couldn't.

Luke.

He would find him.

Luke.

He had to find him.

_fin._


	25. One Eye Open

**_One Eye Open_**

He can't shake the feeling that something is watching him.

Something.

Not someone.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he can feel each one, sense it, as if his entire body is alight with the prickling sensation of a thousand microscopic threads on his skin.

He blinks. Darts his eyes around, searching the darkness.

Again nothing is there but the feeling stays strong.

Something is watching him.

He cautiously lowers himself to the dirt, ignoring how the dank smell of it fills his nostrils. He shifts slightly, making no noise. Silence.

He waits, listens to the night. He hears nothing but his own ragged breathing and it's the loudest thing he's ever heard.

Settling further into the dirt, he cracks an eye open and attempts to get some rest.

He is still certain that he's being watched.

By morning he's tired as hell (he couldn't help but jerk to alertness at every snap of a twig) but he doesn't care.

He made it through the night.

He survived.

_fin._


	26. Keychain Musings

_**Keychain Musings**_

She fiddles with the keychain Mulder gave her, while it's still buried in her pocket. For some reason she can't bring herself to take it out and hold it in her hand. It feels almost wrong to consider removing it from the safe confines of her lab coat.

It is warm in her grasp. When she first reached for it, it had been cold to the touch but that iciness is long gone, melted away.

There is only now the weight of it, not heavy but with enough mass to it for it to mean something and to matter. It's of a weight that makes her notice it.

The edges of it are quite smooth too though in some parts the metal leaves a slight point. A sigh escapes her lips.

"Are you all right, Dr Scully?" one of her students asks.

She flicks her gaze over to the blond haired man. He can't be older than about twenty five. Pulling her lips into a thin line, she surveys the rest of the faces around her. Only one – the girl she instructed to make the first incision in their corpse – isn't watching her.

"Fine," she says. "I'm fine. Let's take a break now though and meet back her and 0930 hours. Lucy? Finish that cut before you go and tidy up in here okay? You're doing great."

She continues to fiddle with the keychain as her students file out. Her fingers press into its sides. It's warm to the touch.

_fin._


	27. Gone Were the Days

_**Gone Were the Days**_

Gone were the days of her previous life. They were but memories in the back of her mind, rarely pushing their way through to the front and even less commonly making an impact on her. They were boring days - at least, compared to now. Compared to now, those were average, mundane and like the lives of so many other people on the earth.

Now though, her days are in colour, more vibrant than is seen by most people. She can finally say she's happy, contented, and not be lying or faking it. She has everything she wants. Everything she needs.

And she has Doggett. You don't realise how empty your life is until you get something - or someone - that makes you whole. Only then do you see how your life was decent but not amazing, a picture but not picturesque.

Not to say that a guy is always the answer. There have been guys she thought were nice.. for bad boys, that is.. and they turned out exactly how she should have expected them to. They hadn't been right. They had fit for awhile, but then her shape and theirs no longer merged and no longer became one.

Jigsaw pieces slotting together.

That was her life, then it wasn't.. Then it was again. Her jigsaw isn't complete yet, but she can see the start of a beautiful landscape forming in amongst the holes. The pieces are all falling into place. Finally. As they should.

And she? She is happier than she has been in years.

_fin._


	28. Crime & Punishment & Stones

_**Crime & Punishment & Stones**_

_Don't do it. He's just a kid._Monica thought, frantically hurrying toward her target. She held her gun in front of her. White knuckles. Gripping it tightly.

"He's a stupid kid, is what he is!" The woman shouted. She looked wild. Her hair was a tangled mess of curls that partly obscured her face and went well past her shoulders.

The boy whimpered in her grasp.

Monica slowed to a stop and swallowed, still training her gun on the woman. _Well, this isn't how I wanted my weekend to go._

"It's not how I wanted mine to go either. But there you go. Both our weekends are screwed." The woman cackled and with her free hand, brushed her hair back. Her other hand tightened over the boy's chest, pulling him in front of her. A shield. She was using him as a shield.

"Wait. What? Did you just read my thoughts?"

"Why act so surprised? I know you and your redhead have been discussing mind reading. You already knew what I can do when you got here." The woman was rather more astute than Monica had first thought.

_Then, tell me this. Why are you hurting him? What did that boy ever do to you?_

"I caught him stealing. Broke into my home, he did, and he rooted through my things. Took my purse and my daughter's walkman."

"Okay," Monica said gently. She made a show of putting away her gun and put her hands up, walking slowly forward. "We can do something with that, okay? Do you want to charge him for breaking and entering?"

"I want him punished, so he can't ever do it again."

"We can certainly press charges and he'll get a night in jail, ma'am. We'll do our best to make you feel safe. Just.. let him go."

The woman stared at her as if she'd suggested giving her belongings to the boy. Her nose, bent at the end, seemed to jut out even more and her lips were twisted into an unpleasant frown. "This.. this.. child. This thieving, nasty, smelly child, deserves more than just a sleepover with the cops."

"That's for the police to decide," Monica explained calmly. "Now, if you'll just-"

"Jail is too clean and easy for him. No, this one. He should get chained up naked and stoned."

_There is no way I can let her win this._

"I can hear your thoughts, remember?" The woman scowled.

"That's not what I-"

Before she could finish speaking, the woman pulled a knife on the boy. She held the blade against his young, creamy coloured throat.

At once, Monica raised her gun again. "Put the knife down."

The woman ignored her. She seemed wrapped up in pushing the blade as close to the boy's throat without piercing the skin. Until.. a bead of red formed on the boy's neck and he grimaced. A strangled cry escaped his lips.

"I said put the knife down," Monica repeated firmly. Her voice held more confidence than she felt.

"Or what? You'll keep yelling at me?"

_Or I'll shoot you._There was seething hatred in her words. It wasn't often she got so worked up about a case. But then, it wasn't often either that she had to rescue boys from crazed women who didn't know the meaning of going way too far.

Though the woman didn't seem to move and didn't remove the knife from the boy's throat, there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Fear, perhaps. Or.. was it gladness? Did she want to die? Was that what this was all about?

_We can help you if you give us a chance. Let the boy go and we'll talk._

Nothing. The woman stared at her but didn't move. Didn't let the knife drop or the boy go free. Barely even breathed. She was like a living statue that could either come to life and bring destruction to the lives she came in contact with or crumple and fall.

All at once, the fear disappeared. Something replaced it.

Monica cringed and took aim and... BANG!

The woman fell back to the ground and the boy stumbled forward, hands going to his injured neck. There was more blood now; she'd shot the woman just in time to save the boy's life.

"Hey. Hey, are you all right?" Monica asked him. She hurried over.

Tears in his eyes, the boy shrugged.

"Let's get you some medical attention and find your parents, okay? I'm Monica."

She led him away from the woman's crumpled form. As she did, she radioed in for an ambulance and to report the location of her body for retrieval.

She and the boy sat in her car on the opposite street and waited. At one point, the boy seemed to be trying to speak.

"It's okay. You can talk later. Let's get you fixed up first, all right?"

He nodded and slumped back into the car seat. The ambulance arrived two minutes later, sirens blaring.

The next morning, Monica visited the boy in hospital. Trent was his name. She smiled at him and waved as she entered his room. "Trent, is it? That's a nice name."

The boy simply watched her.

"You were trying to say something yesterday. What was it?"

He seemed afraid then. He glanced around the room and at the door and then back at her. "She read my thoughts," he said. "She isn't going to tell my sister I took her barbie, is she? Mellie'll kill me!"

Monica laughed. "No. Where that woman is going is somewhere far away where she can't hurt little boys like you."

"Do I have to go away someplace too?" he asked timidly.

"No. No, you're good," she said, serious again. "You'll get a severe talk from the police when they come by later this afternoon and a warning, but as long as you behave yourself in future, you'll grow up and turn into a nice young man."

The boy sighed in relief. "Good. I don't want to be like she was. She was scary."

Monica nodded. _She scared me, too. _Rather than admit that to the boy, she just said, "I'll let you get back to resting," and left him with his parents.

_fin._


	29. Charcoal Slate

_(Reyes)_

_**Charcoal Slate**_

The sky had darkened. The charcoal grey-green slate that it had become was more than a little unsettling. It threatened rain – heavy rain – and probably hail. The air already smelled like rain, and while there was no lightning yet, every so often, there was a grumble from above that shook the earth.

Monica hurried onward, pulling her sweater closer around her middle. She hadn't always feared storms, but she had what she believed was a healthy respect for them. The destruction a storm could cause was phenomenal. It was almost an X File in itself. Nature was fascinating.

She reached her car, cringed. She stopped hugging herself and retrieved her keys from her bag. In the moments she fumbled with her keys, the wind picked up and rain fell. The wind whipped her hair around her face, and rain soaked her coat. The key slid in the lock and turned. She slid into her seat, and slammed the door shut. The storm raged on without her.

Though she wasn't keen on the effects the elements had on her – cold chills, and a feeling like she'd never be warm again – she smiled. A hot shower awaited her. A microwaved meal and a warm bed awaited her. Even the darkest cloud had a silver lining.

_Fin._


End file.
